


For Something Pure And True

by BigSciencyBrain



Series: Solace [8]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, this fic is not a sex ed lesson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 05:50:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1169449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigSciencyBrain/pseuds/BigSciencyBrain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Loki settle into a life together, but new secrets and old enemies mean it's not smooth sailing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Something Pure And True

Several months after they’ve settled in at the warehouse, Steve throws a housewarming party and invites the team. Loki cooks most of the afternoon and the entire space smells good enough to make his mouth water.

Tony and Pepper are the first to arrive.  He ushers them in, kissing Pepper’s cheek and taking her coat.

“I like what you’ve done to the place,” Tony says, looking around.  “Less blood, less house of pain vibe.  It’s a good change.”

Pepper looks mortified.  “Tony.”

Steve just rolls his eyes and takes the bottle of scotch Tony had brought with them. 

“Something smells amazing.”  Tony inhales deeply, eyes closed.

“That’s all Loki.  He wouldn’t even let me taste test it.”  Steve leads them to seats near the fireplace in the open living area and gets them settled.

Bruce arrives next, carrying a potted orchid with lavender petals that he awkwardly hands over.  Steve knows Loki will love it.  Clint and Natasha arrive together.  Clint has a six-pack of beer and Natasha has a bottle of vodka.  They don’t look quite as awkward as Bruce, but only because they have the best poker faces out of all the Avengers.  Thor and Jane arrive last.  Thor has a small cask under one arm and a wide grin on his face.

“I have brought mead from Asgard,” Thor announces.

“About time.”  Clint waves Thor over.  “Cap, point me to the biggest glass you’ve got.”

“After dinner,” Steve says.  “At least eat before you drink that stuff.”

Steve helps Loki carry dishes and trays of food from the kitchen to the dining table.  When everything is ready, he pours the wine and calls everyone over.  He’s surprised when Loki leans in to press a quick, chaste kiss against his lips before removing his apron.  They’ve kissed since they’d moved in, but never in front of any of the others.

“I don’t know what it is,” Tony says as he takes a seat.  “But I want it in my mouth.”

“This looks amazing, Loki,” Pepper says graciously.

For several minutes, the only conversation is about who needs which dish and how they can get it.  Steve keeps an eye on everyone’s plates, making sure they get a bit of everything.  He doesn’t even know what the dishes are called or what’s in them, but he can tell from the silence that settles over the table that he isn’t the only one who appreciates Loki’s work.  Once they’ve all had their fill, Steve tells Clint where the beer steins are and helps Loki clear the table and load the dishwasher.

“Dinner was perfect.”  He reaches for Loki’s hand.  He’s still thinking about the kiss from earlier and wondering what it means.

“When they’ve gone.”  Loki turns his head and catches Steve’s lips.  After a moment, his lips begin to part and the kiss deepens.

More than anything, Steve is glad that Loki is beginning to talk more.  He doesn’t know if it’s because they have their own space now or if it was merely a coincidence, but he’s missed Loki’s voice all this time and it’s good to hear it.

Loki ends the kiss gradually, remaining a mere breath away.  “I wish to make love.” 

Steve’s heart skips a beat.  “We can do that.” 

“Hey, lovebirds!”  Tony calls from the lower level.  “Before you get all hot and heavy, we’re opening the magical mead.”

 “We should go downstairs.”  Steve kisses him again.  “Be social.”  Another kiss.  He has no desire to stop what he’s doing.  “This is our party.” 

He loves the way the word _our_ feels on his tongue.

Steve presses his forehead against Loki’s.  “Later.”

“Later,” Loki repeats softly.

Loki breaks away first, setting the dishwasher going.  He takes Steve’s hand and pulls him to the edge of the kitchen platform.  For a moment, Steve isn’t sure what he’s doing.  Then Loki’s arms wrap around him and his wings open up.  It’s a short flight, more of a glide, but it’s the first time Loki has done this since Centipede and Steve doesn’t want it to end. 

Once everyone has a stein of mead, they end up in a circle around the fireplace, with pillows and cushions turned into makeshift chairs.  Clint uses Natasha’s lap as a pillow, one arm wrapped around his mead.  Conversation is sporadic, broken with laughter.  After awhile, Steve suggests a game and goes to select one.  It’s something that he and Loki enjoy, but there are several games that require more than two people.

When he returns with a game he thinks the others will enjoy, Loki is coming down the stairs from the kitchen with two large bowls filled with sweet and savory treats.  Thor refills everyone’s steins.

Steve settles on the floor, opening up the game and explaining the rules as he hands out pieces.  It’s clear within a few minutes that everyone is going to be drunk soon, but he decides that it’ll still be fun.  At Thor’s insistence, he tries the mead and admits that it is amazing.  He thinks he might feel a tingle in his fingertips, but nothing more.

“You heard they found the Abomination,” Tony says suddenly, still frowning at the cards in his hands.  “Somewhere in Alaska.”

“Great.  I hate Alaska.  Fucking snow.”  Clint is trying to get a look at Natasha’s cards, which only gets him a slap on the head.

“I didn’t say they found Big Ugly in one piece.”

Steve glances to Loki, but there’s no indication in his expression that Loki remembers the Abomination at all.

“At least he’s off our dance card,” Tony continues breezily.

“And there’s something even scarier than him out there.  I didn’t think anything could make a dent in that guy except Hulk.  Any idea what did it?”

With a shrug, Tony finally lays down a card and hands the dice to Pepper.  “They’d stashed him away in a cryo cell.  A few guards to keep watch.  No one was left alive to talk about what happened.  Nothing but blood and snow.”

“How do you know about,” Natasha stops mid sentence and fixes Tony with a stern look.  “Stop hacking SHIELD, Tony.”

Tony grins as he reaches for the bowl of snacks.  “It’s what I do.  And, come on, it was like Fury rolled out the welcome mat on this one.” 

The evening turns to night.  Steve forces glasses of water into the others’ hands, even Thor’s, and adds more wood to the fireplace.  After several rounds, they are all either too drunk or too tired to continue playing.  Jane curls against Thor’s side and her eyes close.

“Thanks for the feathers, by the way,” Clint says, his words slurred.  “They work great.”

“Feathers?” Steve asks.

“He gave me some feathers.  For my arrows,” Clint says as though that explains absolutely everything.  “The solid ones are a bitch to cut, but they’re perfect for broadheads.  I had to use one of your…thingies…Tony.”

Tony raises his eyebrows as he looks over the top of his glass.  “Thingies is not a technical term, Barton.”

Bruce chuckles.  “So that’s what happened to the diamond saw.” Tony nearly chokes on his water.

Steve looks down.  Loki is lying beside him, head against Steve’s thigh.  His expression is serene, giving nothing away.  Steve lets his hand fall to one wing, stroking the feathers lightly.  Loki’s eyes flutter closed.

His chest feels tight with all the emotions roiling around inside him.  It’s the little things, he decides, that mean the most to him.  The small things that Loki has done: baking cookies at the Tower, giving Clint feathers for arrows, even agreeing to allow all of the Avengers into their new home and preparing the meal.  Wanting to make love is just the icing on the cake.  His vision blurs a little.

“Alright kids.”  Tony gets to his feet, swaying slightly.  “I am officially too old to be up this late.”

Pepper is already reaching for her purse.  “I’ll call for a driver.”

“Thank you for coming, guys.  It means a lot to me.”  Steve hopes they can’t see the tears in his eyes. 

“Go easy on the S and M.”  Tony winks and laughs when Pepper scolds him.

Steve doesn’t get up to see them out, but everyone seems to understand.  Thor is the only one who stays, his gaze lingering on Loki for a long time.

“He seems happy here, with you,” Thor says quietly.

“I think he is; I hope he is.”  Steve strokes his fingers through Loki’s hair.

“I can hear you,” Loki says wryly and opens his eyes.  “Are you happy as well, brother?”

Thor looks down at Jane and smiles.  “I am.  I miss our home.  But Midgard is home to me now.”  He looks up again.  “It is good to hear your voice, Loki.”

Loki is quiet for awhile before he pushes himself up into a seated position, his arms around his knees.  “It was Frigga who kept me sane in that place.”

“She came to you?”

“Perhaps it was merely my imagination.”  Loki swallows and leans, almost unconsciously, toward Steve.  “Perhaps it was only a dream.”

Steve reaches for his hand.  “You’re safe.”  It’s been several weeks since Loki’s last nightmare, but he still has them.

“Do you remember the ash tree?” Loki asks, his tone light.

Thor grins.  “Of course.  And the sailboat it became.”

“Yggdrasill.”  Loki’s smile is fond.  “How young we were.”  He turns his hand over, examining his fingernails.  “Do you remember what you swore to father when we were children?  Your promise to hunt down every Frost Giant and slay them.”

“Loki,” Thor began.

Loki cuts him off.  “I remember it.”

“I did not know.”

Loki shakes his head.  “I realize now that you wouldn’t have cared.  Just as you didn’t care that I have wings.  I expected you to care.  I expected,” he stops, laughing quietly.  “I thought you would come after me once you discovered the truth; that you would cut me down as you had so many others of my kind.”

“Loki.”  Thor’s voice holds endless heartache.

“It matters so little now,” Loki continues.  He leans to the side, resting his head against Steve’s shoulder.  “Had I known how little it would matter, perhaps it could have been different.”

“It can be different now.”  Thor looks hopeful.  At his side, Jane begins to stir.

“It is different now.” There’s sadness in Loki’s voice. 

Steve presses his lips against Loki’s hair and pulls him close.  He hasn’t heard Loki say that much since before he’d been taken by Centipede; he almost wants to pinch himself to be sure he’s awake.  

He stays, holding Loki, as Thor gathers up Jane and heads home.  When the fire has burned down to glowing coals, he eases away from Loki and goes to lock up.  He hears Loki in the kitchen, cleaning up the rest of the night’s festivities.  Gathering up glasses and bowls, he carries them up and sets them on the counter.

“Are you alright?” he asks softly.  Loki speaks so little and never about what he experienced at Centipede’s hands.

Loki exhales, head bowing as he leans against the sink.  “Centipede kept video recordings of what happened inside their den.  SHIELD has those recordings.”

Steve frowns.  He’d figured as much, but he hadn’t thought much about it.

“That is why they have allowed me to be with you.”

“What do you mean?”  A chill slithers down Steve’s spine.

Loki looks away.  “Centipede made me an offer.  My life for your blood.” 

“You don’t…you don’t have to talk about it.  If you don’t want to.”

Taking a deep breath, Loki finally turns to face him.  “I refused.” 

Steve pulls him close, holding tight.  It makes sense now.  He’d wondered why the others hadn’t questioned his decision to leave the Tower and live with Loki.  They’d been strangely accepting of Loki since they’d rescued him from the mine.  He presses kisses against Loki’s neck, breathing in the scent of his skin and hair.  Loki shivers in his arms, his fingers digging into Steve’s shoulders.

Pulling back, Steve brushes Loki’s hair from his face and smiles.  “How about we take a shower and climb into bed?  How does that sound?”

“Wonderful.”

Steve leads him down the stairs and into the bathroom.  He takes his time undressing and getting Loki out of his clothes; his hands shake.  They stand under the water, kissing and caressing without any rush or urgency.  He can sense vulnerability in Loki that he’s never felt before and it feels like he’s been handed something incredibly precious and fragile. 

Once they’re clean and dried off, Loki’s hair pulled back into a braid, he tells Loki to head to the bedroom while he turns off the lights and makes sure the fire is taken care of.

When he enters the bedroom, Loki is sitting on the bed, naked.  The glass in his hand is filled with mead rather than wine.  Steve doesn’t say anything.  He moves behind Loki and reaches out to touch his wings.  Gently, he runs his hands up along the ridges and then down the feathers.  He feels Loki shiver beneath his touch.

“How does that feel?” he asks.

“It is difficult to describe.”

“Does it feel good?”

“Yes,” Loki answers after some hesitation.

“You never let me touch them.  Before.”  Steve isn’t sure about bringing up their past, it still feels like a subject that must be avoided.

Loki begins to turn and Steve has to pull back to avoid being knocked aside by a wing.  Reaching out, Loki sets his glass – now empty – on the bedside table and opens the top drawer.  There’s a bottle of lubricant in his hand when he pulls back.  Slowly, he leans forward to press Steve down against the bed.  “You have always loved my wings,” he whispers as he trails kisses down Steve’s chest.

Steve feels heat begin to pool low in his belly, his cock swelling with interest.  “They’re beautiful.”

Loki settles between his legs, bending them and spreading them open.  His breath against Steve’s cock makes him jump.

“Loki.”  He reaches down to tangle his fingers in Loki’s hair.  Part of him thinks that if they make love, he’ll break into pieces.  Everything is too perfect, too _right_ , and he can’t help expecting something to go horribly wrong at any moment.

“Relax,” Loki murmurs. 

Steve takes deep breaths, his eyes closed.  He focuses on the sensation of Loki’s fingers and lips against his skin.  Almost without thinking, he adjusts his hips and spreads his legs wider.

“So eager,” Loki says, a trace of humor in his voice.

Steve blushes.  “A little.  It’s been…awhile.”

“Have you missed it?”

Steve shivers as he feels Loki’s lips against his inner thigh.  “Loki.”

“I think you have.”

Breath catches in his throat as he feels Loki press a finger into him.  He can tell that he’s tight, clenching around Loki’s finger.  Even as he tries to relax, his body rebels. 

“It _has_ been awhile,” Loki muses.  “You are so tight.  I can hardly wait to feel you, feel how tight you’ll be around me.”

The sound of Loki’s voice – he can’t believe how much he’s missed _that voice_ – is turning him on almost as much as his fingers.  Cool lips brush against the head of his cock and he moans at the sensation.  He rocks against Loki’s mouth, seeking more, and with each roll of his hips, he feels Loki’s fingers push deeper.  Gradually, he can tell that his muscles are relaxing; he can feel Loki’s fingers stretching him open, brushing against the spot inside him that makes him breathless with wanting. 

“You are perfect.”

Steve laughs at that.  He opens his eyes to see Loki slicking his cock with lubricant and bites down on his lower lip.

Loki places one hand to the side of Steve’s head, bracing himself.  Steve reaches up, sliding his hand beneath Loki’s and weaving their fingers together.  He keeps his eyes open as Loki’s cock begins to push into his body; there’s pain, but it’s little enough.   He focuses on all of the sensations coursing through him and settles his left hand on the back of Loki’s neck, trying not to grip too hard.  He watches Loki’s face, trying to catch every fleeting expression, every breath, and every glimpse of his tongue against his teeth. 

The rhythm Loki sets is slow and gentle; it’s terrifyingly, intensely intimate. Steve feels as though he’s going to come apart at any moment.

“This,” Loki says breathlessly.  “This is what I wanted.”

Steve is shattered and put back together in the same moment.  He closes his eyes, feeling tears slip out onto his cheeks.  He grips Loki’s hand tightly each time his cock brushes against Loki’s stomach.  This is different than he’d imagined, different than anything they’d done before.  Loki slips a hand between then, fingers curling around Steve’s cock; his strokes are just as slow and gentle.  Steve forces his eyes open again, realizing that he’s on the edge and about to go over. 

This time, it doesn’t feel like he’s falling into a dark abyss.

Loki’s face is flushed and his lips parted.  Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen Loki look more beautiful than he does in that moment.  When he comes, spilling out between them, somehow it’s anticlimactic and perfect, absolute release at the same time. 

“I love you,” Steve whispers before he pulls Loki down to kiss him.  He feels Loki’s hips jerk and stutter, and then feels the subtle pulse of his orgasm.

Loki brushes his fingers against the tracks of tears on Steve’s cheeks.  “Did I hurt you?”

“No.”  Steve wraps his arms around Loki and pulls him tight.  “I’m so sorry.  I couldn’t give you that before.  I’m sorry.”

Loki takes a deep breath, settling against him.  “You’ve given me far more.”

“I was afraid.”  He’s shivering with the intensity of the emotions inside him, knowing that Loki had wanted this all along.  “I was stupid.  I was a complete idiot.  I don’t know why you’ve given me a second chance.  I don’t deserve it.”

Loki laughs.  It’s a bright, bubbling laugh without fear or hesitation.  He rolls to the side, still laughing, and reaches out to press his hand against Steve’s cheek.  “My dear Captain.  My dear, sweet Captain.”

He’s spent so much time wishing he wasn’t Captain America and being afraid of what the uniform meant, but now, hearing Loki call him _Captain_ , he doesn’t want to be anything else.

**

“Captain Rogers, pardon the interruption.”  JARVIS’ voice echoes through the warehouse.

Steve stops kissing Loki long enough to answer.  “Not a good time, JARVIS.”

They’re tangled together on the bed, clothes half on or half off, and he’s hoping for _off_ sooner rather than later.

“I’m afraid it’s urgent, sir.  SHIELD has called for the Avengers.”

Steve sighs, lowering his head.  “Sorry.”

Loki chuckles as he kisses Steve’s temple.  His fingers trail lightly down Steve’s stomach, tugging at the waist band of his jeans for a moment.  “Go.”

“Later.”  Steve kisses him once more before he rolls off of the bed and heads for the stairs.

The second bedroom on the lower floor has morphed into an armory of sorts; he’s constantly surprised by how much gear he seems to bring home.  He’s halfway into his SHIELD uniform when Loki speaks.

“When you return,” Loki drawls smoothly.  “I will very much enjoy getting you out of that uniform.”

Steve blushes.  “You keep looking at me like that and it’s going to be a very long night in this uniform.”

Loki gives him an innocent look, smiling.  “Like what?” 

“Like it’s the middle of August and I’m an ice cream cone.”

Loki hums and sidles up to Steve.  He reaches out, adjusting the utility belt around Steve’s waist.  “I would like that.”

“Don’t have too much fun while I’m gone.”  Steve settles the last buckle.

Loki raises an eyebrow.  “I assure you, Captain, I will do exactly that.  While you are gone, I have every intention of _enjoying_ myself.  With your name on my lips, wishing it was your cock inside me rather than my own fingers.”

“Loki,” Steve groans.  His mind is suddenly blank of everything but that image and he knows it’s going to be a very, very long night.

With an impish grin, Loki tugs at the belt until Steve is pressed against him.  “By the time you get home, I shall be desperate for you.”

Steve clears his throat.  “You’d better be,” he manages to get out.

Loki leans forward, resting his head against Steve’s for just a moment.  “Return unharmed,” he says quietly.

“I will,” Steve promises.  It’s a promise he can’t keep – Loki knows that – but he makes it anyway.

He kisses Loki one last time before he pulls away and goes for his shield; it settles comfortably onto the clasp on his back.  The last piece is the SHIELD communicator.  He tries to smile as it slides it into his ear and turns it on.  Static buzzes for a moment before he hears voices on the other end.

“Captain America reporting in.  What’s the situation?”

He looks back once as he leaves the warehouse, taking a mental picture of Loki standing in the center of the room, barefoot and shirtless.  He memorizes the arch of his wings, the lines of his arms and chest, the way the jeans hug his hips, and the look on his face.  It’s the mental image that he’ll keep with him until he sees Loki again.

**

Loki listens to the sound of Steve’s motorcycle fade into the distance.  He pours a glass of wine and adds wood to the fire before he turns the television on.  He searches each channel, looking for news of the Avengers.  Usually, something large enough to require all of them is, at least, mentioned in passing.

There is little beyond idle gossip and dilatory politics.

Despite Steve’s assurances that JARVIS does not monitor the warehouse as he does Stark Tower, Loki is not completely convinced.  He remains silent, cycling through the news channels and waiting.

When there is nothing for several hours, Loki returns to the second bedroom.  With a wave of his fingers, the lock on the box containing Steve’s SHIELD equipment comes undone.  He pulls out one of the spare communication devices and slips it into his ear.  Listening to the faint buzz of static, he returns to the fireplace and refills his wine glass.  There is very little chatter – unfamiliar voices, words that mean nothing – for almost an hour.

They are not in New York, he realizes as he listens.  It is still light where they are.

The first familiar voice he hears is Tony Stark.  “Where’s Cap?  Shouldn’t he be back by now?”

“Give him time,” Natasha responds.  Her voice is fractured by static.

Loki stills, listening intently.  He swirls the wine inside his glass.  Mentally, he makes a note that he must devise a way to pinpoint Steve’s location at any moment in time.

Hours pass before he hears Steve’s voice. “He’s down, I’ve got him.  I’m headed back to the Hub now.  He’s out for now, but alive.”

“Should’ve hit him harder, Cap,” Tony says.

“What was up with this guy?”  Clint’s voice.  “He made a hell of a mess.”

“Who knows.  Another Centipede surprise.”  There’s a strained tone in Steve’s voice.

“Steve, are you—?” Natasha starts to ask.

Steve cuts her off.  “Fine.  Just need to rest a bit.  That’s all.  He got a few punches in.”

“He threw you off a building,” Tony says dryly.

“I’m fine.  I’ll stay at the Hub tonight, rest up.”

“Trouble on the home front?”  The subtext in Tony’s voice is clear.

“Tony, it’s not…it’s nothing like that.”

Loki presses his lips together.  He has two theories of why Steve doesn’t want to come home immediately, both of them equally plausible.  Either he doesn’t want to feel as though he’s broken his promise to return unharmed, or he’s afraid of blurring the line between pleasure and pain once again.

If anyone – electronic or otherwise – is watching the warehouse, they see Loki retreat to the bedroom with a book to read.

He leaves the communicator in his ear, only half listening, as he walks toward the front door.  With each step, armor writhes up his limbs and wraps around his body.  It is simpler than his traditional Asgardian armor and more black than gold.  He locks the door behind him.

Once he’s in the air, wings beating against the cold night, he turns toward the SHIELD Hub.

Getting inside SHIELD without being detected is no more difficult than walking into Stark Tower unnoticed.  If anyone is paying attention, they will see minor anomalies in their security devices and discount them as momentary glitches in their technology.  Technology has become their eyes and ears, lulling them into an easily accepted lie that they are aware of the world around them.  Lying to technology is no different than lying to a person.

 _And I am the God of lies_ , he thinks with a smile.

He makes his way to the detention levels.  There is no hurry in his steps, no impatience.  His purpose is simple.  It isn’t difficult to find the man – his arms are braced with the now familiar Centipede devices – who is SHIELD’s most recent guest.  Nor is it difficult to slip inside the cell where he’s being held.

The man’s eyes open as he sits up.  “I know you’re there.”

Loki freezes.  This is unexpected.  He is certain that he is not visible to the man.

“You thought no one would notice.  You’re not that good.”  The man spits blood out onto the floor.  “Sneaking around, killing anyone who goes after Captain America.  He figured you’d come for me if I knocked Cap around a little. He wants to meet you.”

Loki bristles.  He weighs the desire to slit the man’s throat against the need to know more about the _He_ the man speaks of.  Frowning slightly, he reaches out with magic, seeking anything out of the ordinary about the man.

_There._

The signature of Extremis is obvious, but this strain has been modified.  It is stable, as the others, but different.  A chain reaction waiting to happen, needing only a command to initiate.  If he slits the man’s throat, it will trigger Extremis and turn the man into a bomb. 

The man is looking around, trying to determine where Loki is.  “Show yourself,” he says.  “I know you’re there.”  He doesn’t sound as certain as before.

Loki considers removing the man from SHIELD’s custody, perhaps dragging the information out of him one way or another.  But he’s been sent both as a time bomb and as a message; that much is clear.  Whoever they are, they want Loki to know that they’ve taken notice of him. 

 _Unless_ , Loki thinks, eyes narrowing. Unless his words are not meant for _Loki_. The only thing inside the cell that isn’t being recorded and stored away in SHIELD’s vast databanks is _his_ presence.  SHIELD’s electronic ears have heard every word. _Clever_ , he cedes.  

The man sags a little and checks his watch, muttering under his breath.  He pulls the watch off and shakes it a few times.  After a half hour goes by, he gives up and lies down on the narrow cot.

Loki waits for the man to drift into restless sleep.

It takes only moments to freeze every drop of blood in the man’s body.  His heart stops, his brain begins to die, and Extremis dies with him.  On the outside, the man hardly appears different.  His death won’t be noticed for some time and, by then, the blood will have thawed.  Once certain the man is dead, Loki triggers the false eye in his skull.  It won’t be perfect.  When the blood thaws, it won’t fill the false eye as fresh blood would, but he doubts SHIELD will look that closely.  He removes the watch, tucks it into his armor, and leaves the Hub as quietly as he came.

Dawn is rising over New York City when he lands on the top of the warehouse.  There is a spacious greenhouse on the roof now; Steve built it for Loki to grow herbs and flowers.  The armor fades away as he opens the access door and starts down the spiral staircase.

He has a voicemail from Steve.

“Hey, it’s me.  Guess you’re asleep; it’s late there.  Looks like I’m not going to be home tonight, sorry.  I’ll make it up to you.”  There are voices in the background and someone calling Steve’s name.  “What?  How?  Sorry, Loki.  I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

Loki places the unfinished glass of wine on his side of the bed and returns the SHIELD communicator to its box.  He showers away the sweat and dirt from miles of flying.  Coffee is next; he makes enough for two people.  He eats without being hungry and returns to the roof. 

Inside the greenhouse is warm even in the winter; the air is heavy with the scent of earth and plants.  He lays the watch out on the counter top that he uses as a potting surface and studies it.  Of course, it’s possible that the watch is more than a detector; it could also be a tracking device.  He’d taken the risk.  It could also be nothing, but the man had known he was there somehow.  Had it detected something his magic had not been able to conceal?  Or did it detect magic itself?  Neither option is appealing, but the first can be remedied if he can determine exactly how the device had known he was there. 

The face of the watch is unremarkable.  He experiments with casting various veils, each one highly selective in what he masks.  Masking sound and heat, he sees no change in the watch.  On his next attempt, a small dot in the bottom right corner of the watch disappears.  He repeats the experiment several times before he is certain.

Not magic, then, not _quite_.

Carefully, he takes the watch apart with brushes of magic, turning tiny screws and flipping miniature latches.  In the heart of the device, he finds the tiny, but powerful, sliver of magnetic material.

“Very clever,” he muses.

He dismantles the watch completely, stripping it apart until it is only pieces without purpose or function.  It is no more than a small pile of trash now and he has learned something about his mysterious adversary's skill with mortal science and technology.  The largest question remaining is how involved SHIELD was in this strange game, if Fury wasn’t behind it entirely.

The possibility is unsettling.  Fury would have little to gain over exposing Loki, but _little_ is probably enough.

He is working in the greenhouse, tending the plants and collecting herbs, when Steve finds him.  Brushing dirt from his hands, he ignores the shadow of a bruise on Steve’s cheek. 

“Hey.”  Steve wraps his arms around him, not caring about getting dirt on his SHIELD uniform.  “I’m sorry I didn’t make it back last night.”

Loki presses a kiss against the spot where Steve’s jaw meets his throat.  “May I suggest a shower?”

Steve laughs a little.  “Yeah, I probably don’t smell the greatest right now.”

“I’ll run you a bath.”  Loki takes Steve’s hand and pulls him along, out of the greenhouse.  “It will help.”

There’s guilt in Steve’s eyes, guilt and worry.  “I’m fine.”

“Don’t argue,” Loki chides.  He closes the access door behind them, still holding Steve’s hand, and leads him down the staircase to the bathroom.  “Can you tell me of your mission or am I not allowed to know?”

Steve sighs.  “Centipede.  At least, we think.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

“Usually there’s more than one of these guys.  We’ve never run into just one of their super soldiers, they’re like packs of wolves.”  Steve shakes his head, frowning.  “And this guy?  It was like he was trying to get our attention.  Every other one of them, as soon as we catch them, Centipede triggers their kill switches and it’s over.  But not this time. It doesn't make sense.”

Loki starts the water running in the tub and begins to work at the many buttons and clasps of Steve’s uniform.  “I told you I’d get you out of this when you returned.”

A blush creeps into Steve’s cheeks.  “Yeah,” he smiles a little, shyly.

“You think the man meant to be caught?” Loki asks, his voice casual, as though he’s merely keeping conversation.  He tugs at the fabric to pull it over Steve’s shoulders.

“If that was his plan.”  Steve stops, twisting to pull his arms out of the uniform.  “If that was his plan, it didn’t really work out.”

“Why’s that?”  Loki sets the utility belt aside before starting on the lower half of the uniform.

“He died in the cell.”  Steve sits on the edge of the bathtub to take off his boots and the rest of his uniform.  There are more bruises and the red in his cheeks deepens.  He looks away, self-conscious about his injuries.

Loki carefully folds the uniform and sets it aside.  He moves to the cabinet beside the vanity and pulls out a small carton of the salts that Steve uses when he’s sore.  “That’s unfortunate.”

“I don’t think dying was part of his plan.  Just getting into SHIELD.”

Loki tests the water, adding cold to bring it down a few degrees, and empties the container of salt into the water. 

“This guy, he was talking to himself in the cell before he died.  He said someone was going after my enemies.  Killing them.”

“Do you believe this?” Loki asks carefully.

Steve catches his hand, brow furrowed.  “Loki.” 

For a moment, Loki thinks that Steve is going to ask if it’s _him_ and the world seems to go still.  He hasn’t lied to Steve, not outright.  Not yet.  If he has to lie – because Steve will tell him to _stop_ – he knows the words will taste bitter and ashen.

“SHIELD does.  And Centipede must believe it too.  They must think it’s someone inside SHIELD.  That’s the only reason they’d set this guy up to get caught.  Fury’s going to autopsy the body, just to be sure.” 

Shutting off the water, Loki helps Steve into the tub.  He brushes a kiss against Steve’s hair.  “Are you hungry?”

Steve’s eyes close as he sinks into the hot water.  “Starving.” 

“I’ll fix you something to eat.”

“You are too good to me,” Steve murmurs.

Loki is surprised, though he thinks he shouldn’t be, to find a dozen white roses in a vase on the kitchen table.  He leans in to savor the delicate fragrance.  His wine glass from the night has been rinsed out and set beside the sink; Steve had checked the bedroom first.  Loki makes fresh coffee and piles a plate with leftover pasta and vegetables.  On a whim, he pulls a single rose from the vase and trims the stem short, setting on the tray along with the food.  When the coffee is ready, he fills a wide mug and carries the tray down to the bathroom.  The sides of the tray fit solidly against the sides of the bathtub.

“We need a bigger tub,” Steve says as he straightens up enough to eat.

“Whatever for?”

He grins, reaching for the coffee first.  “So you can get in with me.” 

“I would like that.”  Loki leans down to give Steve a kiss.  “If you are certain you aren’t going to fall asleep and drown yourself, I still have plants that need care.”

“I love you,” Steve answers.

“Try not to drown.”  Loki kisses him again.  “And I will want sex.  Later.”

“Count on it.”  Steve dives hungrily into the food.

Loki returns to the greenhouse.  That hadn’t been a lie.  He finishes collecting herbs for the kitchen and watering the plants that need it.  Steve is still in the tub when he comes back inside.  He takes care of the herbs first, hanging bundles of them up to dry.  Standing at the sink, he watches the city through the window and wonders if Fury will find what he’s looking for in the man’s autopsy.

All of it; the roses, the building around him that Steve spent months turning into something new and beautiful, seems so fragile. The careful, perfect life that he’s built with Steve is a careful, perfect _lie_.

Steve’s cell phone buzzes on the counter where he’d left it.  The screen lights up with a picture of Thor.  Loki picks it up and accepts the call.

“Steven,” Thor begins.  “The other Avengers would like to meet.”

“Is something wrong?” Loki asks in Steve’s voice.

“Tony wishes to tell us something.”  Thor sounds hesitant, awkward.  “I am sorry, my friend.  He asked me not to explain over the phone.”

“I need a bit.  I mean, I just got home and...I’d promised Loki…”  

“Of course.  It is not urgent,” Thor says quickly.

“Tell Tony I’ll be there in an hour or two.”  Loki ends the call and erases it from the phone’s history.

Leaving the phone on the counter, he makes his way down to the bathroom.  The tray is on the floor beside the tub and Steve’s eyes are closed, water dripping down from wet hair.  Loki pulls a towel from the large basket beside the shower.  “Better?” he asks as he settles on the side of the tub.

“Much better.”  Steve opens one eye, glancing down at the towel.  “Time to get out?”

Loki lets his gaze drift lower.  “I don’t mean to rush you.” 

“Not at all.”  Steve leans forward and stands up, reaching for the towel.

Loki wraps it around his waist, pulling him forward and kissing him; gently at first, waiting for Steve’s lips to open.  He bites at Steve’s lower lip then caresses his tongue where his teeth had marked.  

“I’ll meet you in the bedroom,” he whispers.  “Don’t you dare get dressed.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”  Steve kisses him, smiling, and takes the towel.  He’s whistling cheerfully as he leaves the bathroom.

Loki drains the water from the tub and carries the tray back up to kitchen.  The rose is missing; he notices and frowns, wondering what Steve had done with it.  When that is taken care of, he makes his way to the bedroom.  He almost laughs out loud when he sees Steve sitting on the bed, his hair still damp, with his nose buried in the rose.

 Shaking his head, Loki reaches out to tug the rose from Steve’s hand.  “You are a fool.”

“Because I love you?”

“That too.”  He removes his clothes with magic.

“I really wish I could do that.”  Steve moves up on the bed until he can rest his back against the headboard.

“Your uniform is quite complicated.”  Rather than tease, Loki moves forward to straddle Steve’s legs, reaching between them to stroke his fingers along Steve’s cock.

“I thought of you.”  Steve leans forward, his hands coming to rest on Loki’s hips, and presses kisses along Loki’s collarbone.  “Here, in bed.  Touching yourself.”

Loki is a little surprised at the boldness of Steve’s words, but feels a bloom of pleasure beneath his skin.  “Did you?”  He can feel Steve’s cock filling in his hand and rocks his hips forward, brushing against him.

“Mmhmm,” Steve answers.  “Do you have any idea how uncomfortable that uniform is with an erection?  All night long.”

Loki laughs.  “I shall endeavor to make amends for your discomfort.”

“I like the sound of that.” Steve pulls Loki closer.  His hand drifts to Loki’s ass, his fingers seeking out the pucker of sensitive skin and making light, teasing circles. 

This, at least, is real. 

His lust, the fire in his blood that Steve can coax into a roaring blaze with the gentlest of caresses, is as real as anything he’s known.  He curls his fingers around both of their cocks, pressing them together.  Steve is already hard; Loki isn’t far behind.  He savors the short breaths against his skin as he kisses Steve again, open-mouthed and hungry.  Steve’s fingers settle around his, slowing his strokes.

“You keep going like that and I won’t last,” Steve pants against his mouth.

Loki moves his lips to Steve’s neck, kissing and sucking.  Steve’s grip tightens when he sucks at a patch of skin at the base of his neck.  There will be a dark mark when he’s done and Loki finds himself strangely satisfied by the thought. _Mine_ , he thinks as he pulls away and admires his work.

“Did you just give me a hickey?” Steve asks, laughter in his voice.

“Would you like another?”

Steve nips at Loki’s collarbone with his teeth.  “Can you reach the lube?”

“I will mark you more often.”  Loki lets go and leans over, reaching for the top drawer and the bottle of lubricant.  “If it has that effect on you.”

“You have that effect on me.” 

As soon as he’s back on Steve’s lap, Steve continues kissing and biting at his collarbones.  He pushes Loki back gently, enough to lower his head and press his tongue against one of Loki’s nipples.  Loki digs his fingers into Steve’s shoulders, holding on.  He doesn’t resist when Steve reaches up to take the bottle from his hand.  The plastic clicks open a moment later; Steve’s mouth is still fastened on his nipple and Loki writhes against him, trying to feel more.

Steve presses a finger – more than one – into Loki and wraps his other arm tight around Loki’s waist, pulling their bodies together.  Loki arches against him.  He tries to reach between their bodies, but Steve only tightens his hold.

“Steve,” he says and his voice sounds almost plaintive.  He needs to move, needs to feel _more_.

“I thought about this all night,” Steve says against his throat.  “Thought about your body.  About what I wanted to do with you.  Do _to_ you.”  His words turn to a moan as Loki bucks his hips, but he doesn’t let go.  “There are still positions we haven’t tried yet.  Things we haven’t done.”

Loki doesn’t know where this is coming from.  If this is the result of a little teasing, perhaps he should leave Steve wanting more frequently.  Steve’s fingers curl inside him and they’re _so close_ , but not quite there.  Breathless, he grinds down against Steve’s hand, wanting more.  He feels his wings unfold and open up without consciously controlling them.  Leaning forward, he digs his fingers into Steve’s hair and pulls his head up.  The kiss is hard, teeth cutting against skin. 

“Are you…are you…is it enough?” Steve whispers breathlessly.

“If you don’t get serious about fucking me,” Loki stops when Steve begins to move. 

He’s trying to kiss Loki and handle the bottle of lubricant at the same time, which ends up with half of the bottle spilled between them and both of them laughing.  Still grinning, Steve shifts Loki up to get a better angle.  He doesn’t break eye contact as Loki comes down, slowly, and takes him in inch by inch. 

With his hands on Steve’s shoulders and Steve’s cock buried deep inside him, Loki wants to tell Steve _everything_. Instead, he begins to move, trying to find just the right motion that will drag Steve’s cock against the spot inside him.  He shivers a little when he gets it right and feels the shiver extend from his body into his wings.

“You have no idea how expressive your wings are.”  Steve settles back against the headboard, almost lazily, and hooks one arm behind his head, fingers loosely wrapped around the base of his skull.  With his other hand, he catches Loki’s cock and begins to make easy, gentle strokes.  The spilled lubricant makes the sensation that much _more_.  “You have a poker face, but your wings don’t.”

“Is that so?” Loki manages to get out between breaths.  Steve seems calm, while Loki is already ragged with pleasure.

“Mmhmm.”  Steve rubs his thumb along the crown of Loki’s cock.

Loki almost loses all self control.  He lets go of Steve’s shoulders, afraid he’ll leave bruises, and braces his hands on either side of Steve’s head.  “Where…did you learn that?”

“I paid attention.”

It’s enough to make him wish he could bind Steve’s wrists again.  Instead, he focuses on the motion of his hips, determined to bring Steve with him when he comes.  He hears the breath catch in Steve’s throat and smiles.

“Loki.”  Steve pulls his arm away from the headboard and grips the back of Loki’s neck.  “I love you.”  The rhythm of his strokes quickens and Loki can’t help moving faster in response. 

Steve is in control and there’s nothing he can do about it, he realizes.  It’s terrifying.  He can’t help it; he can’t control it.  His wings beat against the air as though trying to pull him away, but Steve’s arm keeps him held fast.  Panic rises up in his chest.  Somehow, he’s become lost here; lost in Steve’s eyes and Steve’s arms and this _wasn’t_ supposed to happen.   

“I love you,” Steve repeats. 

He pulls Loki close and says it over and over again.  Loki comes hard, a cry tearing from his throat and his eyes squeezing shut.  He feels Steve’s hand tighten on his neck, feels his hips jerk beneath him, and he collapses, boneless, against Steve’s chest.

Steve wraps his arms loosely around Loki.  “Wow.”

There is nothing he wouldn’t do for Steve.

It’s the reason he whispers soft words against Steve’s temple.  The spell works quickly, taking advantage of fatigue and the comfortable, easy bliss of sexual release.  He settles Steve, now unconscious, more comfortably into the bed and cleans away the lubricant and semen. 

To anyone watching, it’s Steve Rogers who leaves the warehouse and Loki lying asleep in the bed.

He walks to Stark Tower, smiling at passersby and stopping to help the elderly.  He walks into the building whistling the same nonsense tune that Steve often whistles.  The Avengers access card gets him into the upper floors of the tower and JARVIS greets him politely.  He continues to whistle when the doors open.

This isn’t the residential floor.  It’s the floor where the Avengers gather; the Inner Sanctum.

Tony glances up as Loki enters the shielded room.  “Someone got laid.  You only whistle-” he’s cut short by a sharp kick from Natasha.

“Thor said you had something to tell us.”  He folds his arms and leans against the back of a chair, not sitting down.  “And yes, I got out of bed for this, so it had better be good.”

Tony turns to the screen.  “Fury thinks you’re sleeping with a cold blooded killer.  Good enough for you?”

The first image on the screen is the Abomination.  Or, rather, what had been left of him.  Tony cycles through the images, throwing out names and causes of death.

“SHIELD thinks Loki did this?” Loki asks, keeping his voice calm.

Thor speaks first.  “I would expect no less of my brother.  On Asgard, it would be within his rights to challenge any who harmed the one he loved.” 

Loki manages not to look surprised that Thor would come to his defense.

“This isn’t Asgard and Fury hates people he can’t control,” Natasha tells them.

“Are we sure it’s Loki?” he asks earnestly.  “Is there proof?  I’m not going to accuse him of murder just because Fury doesn’t trust him.”

The others are silent for a long time.  Bruce is the first to speak.  “Steve.  There’s something you need to see.”

Loki knows what’s coming next.  He stands perfectly still as the footage from the Centipede prison appears on the screen.  He watches it, his grip tightening on the back of the chair until the plastic cracks; the sound is as loud as a gunshot in the silence.  His wings ache with the memory of Centipede’s cruelty.  He is glad Steve is not here to see this.

When it’s over, he turns his back to the others.  “I want this footage destroyed.  All of it.  No copies, nothing.  I want it gone.”

“Steve,” Natasha begins.

“Just get rid of it.  He…” Loki catches himself.  “You didn’t need to show me.  I already knew.  Loki told me.  He told me everything.  Get rid of it.”

“Okay.  It’s gone,” Tony says.  “But you heard what he said.  That if Centipede so much as looked at you.  He threatened them.  What if this is him, Cap?”

He rounds on the others, unable to mask his anger.  “What if it is?  What are you saying Tony?  If it’s him, so what?”

Tony frowns, shaking his head.  “So what?”

Loki braces himself against the table, seeing Steve’s hands against the wood.  “He is what he is, Tony.  I can’t change that.”

“So you’re okay with this?  You’re okay with him assassinating and executing people.”

“They’re not exactly the good guys,” he says through gritted teeth.

“What happens when it’s not just people who attack you?  What if it’s people who just look at you wrong on the sidewalk?  What if he decides the paparazzi is a threat?”

“I love him,” he says sharply.  “And he loves me.”

“He’s got to know you wouldn’t be okay with this.  You shouldn’t be okay with this.  You’re Captain fucking America for god’s sake.”

“If it is him, then it’s between him and me.”  He looks at each of them.  “I don’t want to hear about this again.  Please.  I just got him back and I’m…we’re… happy.  Please.”

“If they find proof that it’s him, SHIELD will go after him,” Natasha warns.

“SHIELD has been looking for an excuse to go after him since they found out who he was,” he counters.  None of them deny it.

“I will side with Captain Rogers in this,” Thor says, his voice grave.  “I believe that my brother truly cares for him.  If he is behind these killings, that is why.  He is protecting the one he loves.  Anything else would be dishonorable.  You should expect no less from me if someone were to threaten Jane Foster.”

Bruce leans forward, resting his hands on the table.  “We didn’t ask you to come so we could pile on top of you, Steve.  We wanted you to know.  Someone is taking out people who threaten or hurt you.  SHIELD thinks it’s Loki.  And most of us think Loki’s the obvious choice.  We wanted you to know.  That’s all.”

Loki takes a deep breath, bowing his head.  “I let my emotions get the better of me, I’m sorry.  I know you guys are on my side.”  Shaking his head, he turns back to screen.  “Pull up the victims again.  If you can call them that.”

He pours over the details, looking for anything that would definitely point to _him_ as the killer.  When they ask him where Loki was on those dates and times, he gives them the answers that Steve would give.  For the most part, Steve can’t confirm Loki’s whereabouts directly so he doesn’t try.  Steve was asleep; Steve was on a mission for SHIELD.  He doesn’t lie, but he doesn’t give them any easy answers either.

“You’re asking me to believe that he sneaks out after I’m asleep to go kill people.”  He folds his arms across his chest.  “And this one?  The guy was talking to himself in the cell and Centipede triggered the kill switch.”

“Doctor Banner.”  Tony waves in Bruce’s direction.

“It’s only preliminary,” Bruce says uncomfortably.  “But there’s tissue damage that suggests the man’s blood was frozen.  I don’t know of any way a normal person could’ve done that.”

“But that’s not the most interesting part.”  Tony pulls up a snapshot from the cell at the SHIELD Hub.  “Guy’s wearing a watch.  And then he’s not.  It just disappears into thin air.”  A second image appears.  “Earlier, he takes the watch off and shakes it.  What do stupid people do when they think their electronics are broken?  Shake them.  Or kick them.  The watch is the key.  That’s how he knew someone was there.  The same someone who froze the blood in his veins and triggered that kill switch to make it look like Centipede killed him.”

Loki has to admit that it’s damning.  But it’s also circumstantial.  “You can’t prove it was Loki.”

“You’re right, I can’t.  We can’t.  SHIELD can’t.  Other than the mysterious disappearing watch, there’s nothing to even hint that there was anyone else in that cell.”  The image on the screen changes to a picture of Loki.  “SHIELD doesn’t always wait for proof.  Do they?  But this also means that Centipede, theoretically, has figured out how to detect Loki.  That, my friends, is something we should be very, very interested in.”

“What is it going to take for you to trust him?” Loki asks, his voice low. 

No one has an answer to that.

He starts for the door.  “That’s what I thought.” 

“Steve.”  Natasha is halfway out of her seat.  “Wait.”

He slams the door behind him and leaves Stark Tower.  The illusion of Steve Rogers is heavy by the time he reaches the warehouse.  He breathes a sigh of relief when he can finally let it fall away. 

Quietly, he makes his way to the bedroom  and removes his armor.  He presses against Steve’s back, pulling the blanket over them both.  For a long time, he stays with his arm around Steve’s waist and listens to his steady breathing. 

“The Avengers do not trust me.  They believe I am the one killing those who harm you,” he whispers against Steve’s hair.  “As does Fury and SHIELD.”  Steve shivers a little in his sleep.

Loki breaks the spell keeping Steve asleep and closes his eyes.  After a few minutes, he feels Steve stir against him.

“Loki?” Steve asks sleepily.  “I must’ve really been out.  What time is it?”

“Not time to get out of bed.”

Steve rolls over, pressing closer.  “You’re right.  Definitely not time to get out of bed.”

**

A week later, Loki is alone when the doorbell rings.  He sets his book aside to answer the door and almost closes it when he sees who it is.

Tony breezes past him, not bothering to wait for a welcome.  “Hey there, partner of my partner.”  He strolls into the center of the living room, looking around as though deciding whether or not he wants to make an offer.

“Steve is not home.”

“Out with SHIELD, I know.”  Tony sticks his hands in his pockets, his gaze finally settling on Loki.  “You’ve got yourself a pretty sweet deal here.  Nice place, nice boyfriend.  Who pretty much worships you, by the way, which you’re probably into.  God of Lies and all that.  That is what you’re good at, right?  Lying.”

Loki closes the door.  Clearly Tony isn’t going anywhere until he’s said what he means to say.  “Would you like a drink?

“Scotch, if you’ve got it.”

“I believe you brought us a bottle as a house warming gift,” Loki reminds him graciously.  He takes his time retrieving two tumblers and the bottle from the kitchen.  Tony is still there when he returns, which is disappointing.  He sets the glasses on the dining table and pours a liberal amount into each.  “So this little visit is…what?  Come to threaten me?”

Tony laughs and shakes his head.  “Actually, I’ve come to appeal to your humanity.  Irony, I know.  Story of my life.”  He picks up the glass, tipping his head to the side as though Loki is a particularly interesting puzzle he needs to solve.

“And you believe you’ll have better luck this time around?”  Loki raises the glass to his lips as he walks away.  He moves to the fireplace and braces himself against the mantle.

“Here’s the thing.  I don’t think you’ve changed.  Under all this…the cooking, the roses…under all that, you’re still Loki.”  Tony’s footsteps are muffled by the various rugs strewn over the concrete floor.  “But I also think you tried.  Maybe you’re try- _ing_.  I think you look at Steve and he’s everything you never knew you always wanted.  He’s Christmas and puppies and apple pie.  And maybe, when you look at him, you think that if he believes you can be a better man, then maybe you can.”

Loki glances over his shoulder.  “You sound as though you speak from experience.”

“I wouldn’t be here without Pepper.  Literally, I’d be dead, more than once actually.”  Crossing to a bench near the fireplace, Tony sits down.

“If there is something you want, Mister Stark, you may as well cut to the chase, as they say in this Realm.”

“You do a remarkably good imitation of him, you know.  Really.  It was very convincing.”

Loki narrows his eyes, but says nothing.  He turns away from the fireplace and takes a seat opposite Tony, holding the glass of scotch loosely in his hands.

“Want to know what gave you away?”  Tony raises his eyebrows.  “It was when you said…I love him and he loves me.  Three little words.  Three harmless little words.”  He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees.  “You see, Loki, not once has Steve said that you love him.  He has never believed that you love him.  He thinks you like him well enough, sure, and there’s the sex, he knows you’re a fan of that, but he doesn’t believe that you love him.  He never has.”

Scotch burns against Loki’s throat.  “Suppose your elaborate allegations are, in fact, correct and I did impersonate Steve.  What would I have to gain from doing so?”

“Yeah, it didn’t make sense to me at first either.”  Tony waves one hand casually.  “But then I realized, it’s simple.  In your own twisted, homicidal way, you actually do love him.  That’s why you’re here, playing house and baking cookies.  And at night, you go after his enemies like some sort of psychopathic avenging angel.  That’s why you wanted us to destroy the footage of you being tortured.  In your own crazy, fucked up way, you’re protecting him.”

Loki can’t quite keep himself from flinching.

Tony takes a deep breath.  “You are a killer, Loki.  You know that and I know that.”

“What now?  Are you going to ask me to leave for his own good?” Loki can’t keep the snarl out of his voice.

“He’s going to figure out it’s you, if he hasn’t already.  And he’s going to figure out that you’ve been lying through your teeth.  I’d like to give you the benefit of doubt and say the whole thing wasn’t a sham.  No one’s that good a liar.  But Steve is going to want to know the truth.  He deserves to know the truth.”

“And this is the part where you appeal to my humanity.”  The words taste bitter.

“Stop lying to Steve,” Tony says, point blank.

Loki looks away.  “If you’re so concerned, why not tell him yourself?”

“Because I wouldn’t have Pepper if you hadn’t been there that day.  You saved the one thing in my life that I love more than life itself.  And I know exactly where I’d be without her.  Where do you think you’d be without Steve?”

“In a cage.”  Loki stands up and moves back to the fireplace, staring into the flames.  That, too, is a lie.  He would’ve died in that cage if Steve hadn’t come for him.

“If you keep lying to him, you will lose him.  Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow.  Maybe not _this_ lie.  But you will lose him.”

“Get out.”  Loki swallows down the scotch in the glass and stalks back to the table.  He grabs the bottle and pours more. He knows Stark has left when he hears the door close behind him.  Less than a minute later, he hears it open again and almost turns to hurl the glass.

“Loki?  I saw Tony leaving.  Did he need something?” Steve asks.

“No.”  He swallows down the contents of his glass and refills it again before moving back to the fireplace, unable to look at Steve.

“It’s a bit early for scotch.”

“Is it?”  Loki tries to soften his tone, but his nerves feel raw and abraded. 

What did they expect him to do?  Sit home while Steve risked his life for SHIELD and the Avengers.  He rubs at the headache beginning to take root behind his eyes.  It didn’t matter how many of Steve’s enemies he killed, there were always more.  Being Captain America earned him enemies who had no other reason to hate him other than the colors on his shield.  He’d kill them all, if he had to; he wouldn’t stop until he knew Steve was safe, until he was certain that-

“Loki, what’s wrong?”

Loki feels like a steel band has wrapped around his chest, making it hard to draw a breath.  He feels Steve’s hand on his arm and shakes him off, unsettled by the turmoil created by Tony’s words.

“Did Tony say something?  Loki, please.”

“Nothing.  It’s nothing.”

“I know Tony.”  Steve grabs his arm, pulling him around.  His brow is furrowed with concern.  “He’s pissed off people in more countries than I can name.”

Loki almost laughs.  He can hardly blame Stark for holding up a mirror and forcing him to look into it.  Everything he's done, trying to protect Steve, meant becoming the very _monster_ that Steve opposes.  Night after night, he fights back the _other_ Loki who wants nothing more than to tear Steve’s throat out while he sleeps - because _Steve_ is all that stands between him and the darkness inside him - but in the end, he’s destined to lose.

He sets the glass on the mantle and presses closer to Steve, circling his arms around his waist.

“Loki, wait.”

“I want you,” he murmurs against Steve’s neck.

“You’ve been drinking and you’re upset.  This isn’t…please tell me what happened.”

“Fuck me.  I want you to feel you inside me.  I want to feel you even after you’ve gone.”

Steve grabs Loki’s wrists and pulls them away.  “When you’ve calmed down, we can make love.”

“Call it what it is, Rogers,” Loki sneers, jerking his hands away.

“Loki.” Steve looks baffled and hurt.

Loki grabs his glass, drains it on the way back to the dining table, and adds more scotch.  “We fuck, Rogers.  That’s what we’ve always done.”

“You don’t mean that.”  Steve’s voice sounds small.

“Do you still crave the pain?  When I’m inside you, _fucking_ _you_ , do you ever wish that I would hurt you, just a little?”  When Loki turns around, he sees that Steve’s face has gone completely white.  “Maybe more than a little.”

“Stop.”

“Part of you still wants it.  Part of you will always want it.  Deep down, where you are just as dark and wretched as I am.  You still crave it.”  Loki rolls the glass against his chest, narrowing his eyes.  He doesn’t want this; the words on his lips are ugly, bitter lies, but he can’t stop them from coming out.  “How many men have you killed?”

Steve’s fists are clenched tightly at his sides.  “What does that have to do with us?”

“You could live a hundred years more and you wouldn’t even come close to the blood that’s on my hands.  I am a liar and a murderer.  I have killed men for no other reason than they were in my way.  My own...Frigga is dead because of me.  Did Thor tell you that?  Did he tell that it was I who directed the monster that ran her through?”  The alcohol doesn’t burn as much as the rage and shame inside him. 

“Why are you doing this?”

“I’m reminding you of what I truly am.” 

When he reaches for the bottle of scotch, Steve is suddenly there.  He yanks it from Loki’s hand and hurls it against the wall; glass and liquor spray over the brick. 

Loki raises his eyebrows.  “Well, that was violent.”

Steve grabs the front of his shirt.  “Before I walk out that door and call out Tony Stark for whatever he said to you, I’m going to give you one more chance to tell me what happened.”

Loki swallows down a blithe comment about Iron Man versus Captain America.  Steve looks furious and dangerous and Loki has no doubt that he _will_.  His heart beats faster, trying to wrap his mind around the idea that Steve would confront his own teammate in Loki’s defense. 

“I know you’re trying to piss me off.”  Steve softens.  He lets go of Loki’s shirt, one hand sliding to the back of Loki’s neck and the other over his shoulder.  “You’re hurting me just because you can.  Because Tony said something and it hurt you or it frightened you and now you’re taking it out on me.  Please don’t.  Please just talk to me.  Whatever it is, we can work it out.”

Inside, Loki breaks.  He wonders how far Steve will let him push, but his stomach twists unpleasantly as he realizes that he already knows.  Too far.  Wrenching free of Steve’s grip, Loki grabs his glass and stalks toward the stairs leading to the kitchen.  “If you want to roll around in the mud with Stark, it means nothing to me.”

“Roll around in the mud?”  Steve asks, incredulously.  “What does that even mean?”

“Mortals are insects.  An entire realm teaming with them, crawling with them.  Pathetic, worthless insects.”  Loki takes his time picking out a bottle of wine.

“Is that what you think of me?  That I’m a worthless insect?”

Loki doesn’t answer.  He drinks the rest of the scotch before filling the glass with wine.  Taking the glass and the bottle, he moves to the edge of the platform and sits down, letting his legs hang over the edge. 

Steve is looking up at him, jaw clenched tight and brow furrowed.  “Don’t make me do this.  Please.”  When Loki says nothing, he shakes his head and starts for the front door.

“Steve,” Loki says before he can stop himself.  The hope in Steve’s face is heartbreaking.  “Give Stark my regards.”

Loki winces when the front door slams.  He finishes the bottle of wine and then another.  Of course, Stark will tell him everything and then it will be over.  There will be nothing left.  He’s unsteady on his feet when he drops down to the lower floor.  He walks without seeing, letting his fingers trail over furniture and books.

 _Ours_.

How he’s loved this place; loved being here with Steve.  This is more home to him now than Asgard ever was.  Raking his fingers through his hair, he tries to sort out the muddled thoughts inside his head.  Without Steve…without Steve…

He can’t even finish thinking it.

His phone begins to ring.  He ignores it at first but it continues to buzz and shriek until he can’t any longer.  Climbing the steps to the bedroom, he expects to see Thor’s name on the screen.   He has seventeen missed calls, all of them with the same name.

_Romanov._

Gingerly, he picks up the phone and accepts the call.  “Agent Romanov.”

“Get your feathered ass to Stark Tower right now,” she says coldly.

Loki licks his lips. “Why, Agent Romanov, I never realized--”

“Don’t waste my time with your bullshit, Loki.”

Loki ends the call and tosses the phone away carelessly.  He has no intention of going anywhere.  Returning to the lower level, he takes the spiral staircase up to the roof.  He can still see Stark Tower in the distance, so whatever is happening must not be so dire as to require intervention.  Even so, he watches as the sun starts downward in the sky.

A bolt of lightning sizzles through bright blue sky and strikes the Tower.  Smoke begins to drift upwards, peeling out from the shimmering glass, and sirens wail in the distance.  Another bolt of lightning hits the side of the Tower.

“Fool.  What is he doing?” Loki mutters. 

He hears the familiar sound of Steve’s motorcycle approaching, but when it finally comes into view, Steve isn’t the one riding it.  He moves to the edge of the roof, peering down into the street.

Natasha leaves the motorcycle on the street and hits the sidewalk running.  He can hear her pounding on the door below.

“Loki!  I know you’re in there!”

In the distance, another bolt of lightning strikes the Tower.

“Goddamn it, Loki!  I never figured you for a coward,” she yells.

Loki grimaces.  He steps up onto the edge and drops over.  He lands several feet behind her, fixing her with a glare.  “What do you want?”

She doesn’t give an inch.  “The Tower’s under attack.  They took Steve.”

He feels his feathers change instantly and he has to shake himself to force them back.  Armor begins to wrap up his legs and torso; his black armor, the armor he wears when he’s dealing out death.  He turns away from her and crouches, just enough for her to reach the wing joints on his back.  “I’m faster.  Hold on.”

She doesn’t hesitate – the Black Widow has nerve, he has to give her that – and climbs onto his back without a word.  It’s a different weight than he’s used to, but nowhere near the weight of carrying Steve in his arms.  He climbs up with hard, sharp strokes that drag and claw at the air.  Once above the buildings, he tests the wind, seeking out the favorable currents that will speed them along.  When he finds one, he settles into broad strokes he could maintain for hours if he needed to.

“They’re some kind of metal creatures,” she shouts over his shoulder.  “But nothing seems to hurt them and they feed off energy.  The more we throw at them, the tougher they get.”

“Weaknesses?”

“Thor’s lightning stuns them.”

“How are they controlled?”  As he gets closer, he can see strange objects moving along the sides of the Tower, like a swarm of enormous, glittering insects crawling up from the earth.  _Pathetic, worthless insects_.  Loki swallows down irony that tastes like regret.

“Tony’s working on that.  They communicate somehow, we know that much.  Like they’re part of a hive.”

“Then there must be a queen.”  He banks to the right, his wings open wide to catch the air currents that will pull him along toward the Tower. 

 _Fool_ , Loki curses himself.  He could’ve stopped Steve with a word, a single word, and his foolish pride, his fear, had kept him from doing so.  He tucks into a dive for the final descent, wind pulling at his hair.  Natasha’s grip tightens as she struggles to hold on.

Stark Tower is burning.  The creatures are burrowing in and out of the structure, punching truck sized holes in the sides.  He sees scorch marks where Thor has struck out with lightning in an attempt to slow the creatures down.  Pulling up at the last second, he lands on the terrace of the penthouse apartment.  He gives Natasha just enough time to slide from his back before he lets his wings shift into razor edges.

There is shattered glass over the floor and upended furniture.  He looks around but sees no holes large enough to indicate that one of the creatures had reached this floor. 

“This wasn’t the creatures,” Natasha tells him.  “This was Steve and Tony beating the crap out of each other.  Over you.”

“JARVIS, where are the others?” Loki asks.

“Mister Stark and Thor are on the forty fifth floor.  Agent Barton and the Hulk are on the ground attempting to stop more creatures from breaching the Tower.  They appear to be using the subway tunnels to travel.”

“Where are they coming from?”

“I am attempting to model their movements and determine their source location.”

Loki turns to Natasha.  “Where would you like to be?”

“The ground.”

He shifts his feathers one more time and allows her to climb onto his back.  The flight down is little more than a controlled dive.  He lands hard enough to crack the pavement beneath him and lets her slide away.  The Hulk roars.  Loki leaps back into the air, following the carnage up the building until he can see glimpses of red and gold through broken glass.  He dives through one of the creature’s holes into the wreckage.

The first thing that hits him, knocking him to the floor, is an energy blast from the Iron Man suit.

Metal boots grind shards of glass into the carpet in front of Loki’s face.  Even from inside the suit, Tony manages to look pissed off.  “That’s for being a jackass,” he says before turning away.  “Now make yourself useful.”

“Where is he?” Loki asks as he gets to his feet.

“One of the bastards opened up and swallowed him, then skittered off.”

Thor comes flying through one of the interior walls, crashing into desks and chairs before he comes to a halt.  When he rolls to his side and looks up, he gives them both a nod.  “Watch out for their tails,” he says simply.

Loki has no time to answer before one of the creatures barrels through the hole made by Thor, metallic screeching emanating from jaws made to grip and crush both stone and steel.  It’s armored; only the tips of its many feet showing beneath metal scales.  He can see burns from Iron Man’s suit and deep, crippling dents, undoubtedly from Mjolnir.  As he watches it writhe and move, he sees no eyes or equivalent sensors that would guide it toward its prey.

At his side, Tony braces himself for another attack.  “Hitting them really hard seems to be the most effective option, but if you’ve got any ideas, let’s hear them.”

On a hunch, Loki drops the veil he’s been using since discovering how the watch detected his presence.  Immediately, the creature swivels toward him and lets out another inhuman howl.  Beneath them and behind them, he can hear the other creatures beginning to screech as well.

“Interesting,” Loki observes.  The metal beast starts toward them with renewed purpose.

“Loki,” Thor begins, tightening his grip on Mjolnir.  “Now would be a good time to tell us what your plan was.”

“Who said I had a plan?”  Loki turns and races for the opening in the side of the Tower.  He leaps into the air, catching an updraft.

He turns around in time to see the metal creature plunge through the opening in an attempt to reach him.  One by one, the creatures appear and tumble out of the holes in the Tower.  Loki looks down and tries to pick out the small figures on the street.  The Hulk is struggling to protect the people below from the falling creatures.  One of the monsters swarms up out of the ground and latches onto the Hulk’s back, biting and clawing at him.

Tucking his wings, Loki dives for the Hulk.  The timing must be perfect.

As the Hulk fights to pull the creature from his back, Loki’s boots touch down against the metal armor a moment before his wings come forward and drive through the plate covering the back of the monster’s head.  Metal screams as he slices through it and the impact jars every bone in his body.  He feels electricity arching along the ridges of his wings and lapping painfully against his skin.  The smell of singed hair – probably his – is acrid.

He lets go as the Hulk tosses the creature aside and falls, rolling and curling into his wings for protection.  The creature continues to wriggle as it dies, but eventually it goes still.

Thor lands nearby and holds out his hand to help Loki up.  “So they can be killed.” 

“They are tuned to specific fluctuations in magnetic fields.”  Loki gets stiffly to his feet. 

“Is that why they have no eyes?”  Thor nudges the dead creature with his boot.

Loki sighs.  Attempting to explain will only waste time.  “Yes.  There are quite a few more to kill, Thor.”

“We have found nothing else that pierces their armor.” Thor nods to Loki’s wings.

“Then I suppose I should go find another, shouldn’t I?”

There is no shortage of them, Loki realizes as he looks around.  Most were damaged in their fall from Stark Tower, or from running into Mjolnir, and have lost mobility; they're dragging broken legs as they attempt to crawl toward him.  He needs to find the one that swallowed up Steve.

The ground beneath his feet begins to shake and Loki realizes a moment too late what it means.

Pavement erupts around him as a creature emerges from the tunnels below.  It rises up in front of him, legs unfurling and metal panels sliding back to reveal a hollow compartment.  He braces himself for impact as the creature strikes, grabbing and clutching at him to drag him into its shell.  Outside, Thor is screaming his name.

The creature moves quickly, but he can only distinguish up and down.  When the creature heads down, he crashes against one end of the compartment; when it turns up, he slams into the other end.  He hears a subway train; it’s close.  He doesn’t attempt to escape.  There is little reason to build spaces like the one he is in unless the creatures are meant to hunt for their prey and then return.  He’d assumed the trap at the SHIELD Hub, and the watch, had been Centipede’s doing, but enormous robots resembling centipedes seems out of character for an entity that exists in shadows.  They are far too theatrical and an all out attack on Stark Tower belies a different personality. 

Regardless, he knows this is the surest way to find Steve.

When the creature finally stops, it rears up once again and the metal panels peel open.  Loki tumbles gracelessly out of the compartment and hits the ground hard.  He spits dirt out of his mouth as he pushes himself up onto his knees.  The ground beneath him is worn and solid from the tread of the creatures.  The one that had carried him to this place backs away and disappears into the tunnel behind him.  As he moves deeper into the tunnels, he finds more of the metal beasts, all around, but they appear still and dormant.

The central cavern is cliché.

There is a figure seated at a large bank of electronic equipment, large screens spread about showing various television news stations all reporting the disaster at Stark Tower.  A long, dark green cloak hides his form and his face.

As Loki nears the center, his foot brushes against something solid that scrapes loudly over the stone.  He looks down to see Steve’s shield.  Carefully, he picks it up and pulls it onto his arm.  He shivers at the memories of being trapped inside his own mind, struggling to claw his way out again with nothing more than his mother’s dagger and Steve’s shield.

“Which do you prefer,” the figure in the robe asks.  “Shadowfax or Loki?”

“Depends on who’s asking.”  He knows who this must be, but he is still searching for any further signs of Steve and needs to buy time.

Finally, he sees a familiar shape.  Steve hadn’t had time to get into his uniform; he’s in the same blue jeans and t-shirt that he’d been wearing that morning.  Blond hair is dark and matted with blood, but he can see that Steve is still breathing.  He is unconscious and strapped into a device of some kind, with various bits of metal surrounding his head.

“May I call you Victor?” Loki asks, his voice calm.  “Or do you prefer the Clairvoyant?”

Victor von Doom laughs as he turns to face Loki.  “You’re on the wrong side, Loki.  We both know that you do not belong with the Avengers.”

Loki bristles.  “I am not with the Avengers.”  He wants more than anything to go to Steve, but knows that Doom hasn’t yet played all of his cards.

“Yet Captain America keeps you like a beloved pet.  Like a dog on a leash.”  Doom moves away from his equipment and toward a central console.  He reaches out, touching and dragging images over the surface.  “Love is weakness.”

Loki gives him a bright, cold smile.  “You would know better than I.” 

“Do not try my patience,” Doom snarls.

“You brought me here against my will.  Were you expecting me to be gracious?”

“I brought you here to make you an offer.”

“I have heard many offers.  I have taken none of them.”  Loki takes another step toward Steve, gripping the shield tightly.

“What would you say if I told you that I could remake him in your image?”  Doom moves around the console, his robe billowing out behind him.  “Can you imagine it?  A Captain America who isn’t bound to foolish ideals and the archaic concept of good versus evil.  He could be yours, truly yours, as he could never be the way he is now.”

Loki goes still.  The thought of Steve remade in _Loki’s_ image turns his stomach.

“Though perhaps you need more.  Something to sweeten the deal.”  Doom glances toward the console.  “My creations were able to capture someone else of interest to you.”

The ground trembles slightly.  Loki can hear the scuttling of one of the creatures as it approaches.  The beast rears up on its lower segments.  A tangle of limbs and blond hair, bound up in a long red cape, falls out from the center of the beast.  Mjolnir hits the ground and the whole cavern shakes.  Thor does not move.

“I’m afraid he was difficult to convince.”  Doom sounds supremely pleased.

“This was your plan?” Loki scoffs.  “You bring me here, along with the brother I despise and a mortal whom I have no love for.  He does not keep me as a favored pet, I keep _him_.”

Doom shakes his head, making disappointed sounds.  “It is far too late for lies.  You have made your truth clear in death and blood.  No.  You cannot trick your way out of this with words.”

“I can hardly begin negotiations any other way,” Loki answers calmly.  “You have yet to tell me what you want from me that you are willing to go to such lengths to get.”

“There are none of my caliber on this pathetic planet.”  Doom settles into a chair that looks far too much like a throne.  “None worthy to be my equal, worthy of sharing in my ambitious.  Except perhaps one.  One whose ambitions may even rival my own and who has certain talents that I lack.”

“You offer partnership.”  Loki moves closer to the central console, trying to get a better look.  There are bright shapes on the surface, some of them still and some moving.  More are appearing at the edges of the screen, heading steadily toward the center.  This is how Doom monitors his metallic beasts.  “And in exchange, you offer to remake Steve in my image and what else?  Perhaps you thought to kill Thor where he lies.”

Doom waves a hand dismissively.  “I have not attempted the procedure on an Asgardian.  I cannot guarantee its effectiveness.  It may, in fact, kill him.”

“A dark lover and a dark brother, then.  That is your offer.”

Doom nods.  “It is a generous offer.”

“And if I refuse?” he asks.

He knows Doom is waiting for an attack, even expecting it.  No doubt there will be countermeasures and fail safes; Doom is neither a fool nor unarmed.  Any move he makes could trigger the device attached to Steve and kill him in an instant.

“Unfortunate,” Doom says with a shake of his head.  “I had hoped you would see reason.”

Loki has time to raise the shield in defense before a bolt of electricity hits him, throwing him back toward Thor.  His feathers turn sharp and dig deep gouges into the dirt as he rolls.  He has to find a way to keep Doom from killing Steve and Thor where they lie.  Another bolt of electricity sends him rolling to the side.

Doom leaves his throne, stalking menacingly toward Loki.  “The first thing I must determine when I dissect you, alive, is what those feathers are made of.”

Scrambling for purchase, Loki’s hand comes down on the broad surface of Mjolnir’s head and he’s stunned when a surge of energy races up his arm.  He stares down at Mjolnir, incredulous.

Mjolnir stares back.

It’s not intelligence, but there is sentience within the metal; there is absolute purpose and a singular commitment to that purpose.  Suddenly, Loki understands with perfect clarity why Thor is able to lift Mjolnir and why he never could. 

“I thought you, of all people, would understand.  There is only power and the will to wield it.” Doom reaches down; cool metal wraps around Loki’s throat as Doom lifts him up off the ground.  “If you will not join me, then you are my enemy.  But before I kill you, you will watch your lover and your brother die by my hand.”  Doom raises his other hand and lights on the device spring to life.

Steve comes awake with a start and then he begins to scream.

Feathers slice through metal and green fabric, cutting into Doom’s arms and legs.  Loki twists against the grip on his throat, slashing out with each turn.  Doom howls as he hurls Loki away; he stumbles back, but his injuries are not fatal.

Loki climbs to his feet, holding tight to Steve’s shield.  He tries to force everything out of his mind except for Steve and the shield; what they stand for.  He pushes away his doubts, his fears, and his pride.  He thinks about the images Steve had drawn in the sketchbook that Thor had brought him.  He thinks about white roses and the home Steve built for them; of the months he spent lying in Centipede’s cage with the green ribbon clutched in his fingers. 

 _I know I am not worthy_ , he thinks as he closes his eyes.  Unwanted, desperate tears slip out and start down his cheeks.

“Perhaps I will kill you first after all,” Doom snarls.  Energy crackles as Doom prepares to strike.

“Please,” Loki whispers as he holds out his hand.  _For Thor.  For Steve._

Smooth leather presses against his palm a moment later.  He doesn’t think.  He pulls his wings back and leaps into the air.  The shield deflects the blast of energy from Doom’s armor and sends it ricocheting into a bank of equipment. 

Loki brings Mjolnir down against Doom’s chest with every ounce of strength he has.

The world goes white.

He blinks, holding his arm up against the light. 

After his eyes adjust, he recognizes the Queen’s garden on Asgard, with its great ash tree still standing tall.  Looking around, he sees little else that resembles Asgard.  There are rolling hills dotted with wildflowers and a deep forest beyond that, its canopy filled with calling birds.  In the far distance, he can see heavy storm clouds clinging to snow covered mountain peaks.

“Loki.”  Frigga is smiling, her hair golden in the bright sunlight.

“Where am I?”  Loki asks, moving toward her.

“I am where you last saw me.  I have been here all along.”  She reaches up and brushes her fingertips against his temple.

He can’t believe the difference in the space around him; there is peace and sunlight.  There are no monsters howling in the darkness.

“There is still darkness out there.  Night still comes.”

“Mjolnir,” he whispers.  “Mother, it came to me.  How?”

“Because you were worthy.”

He shakes his head quickly.  “That cannot be.”

“Loki.”  She takes his hands in hers.  “The monster you have fought all your life is the man you believe you are destined to become.”

“I am not Thor,” he insists.

“And you have ever defined yourself as his opposite, for his day, you have been night.  For his honesty, you learned to lie.”  Tears are bright in her eyes.  “This day, you fought for those you love.  Not for yourself, not for glory or power or revenge.  You fought to be a better man.  Today, you were worthy, and I am so proud of you, my son.”

He sinks to his knees and wraps his arms around her legs; his tears soak into her skirts.  Gradually, his breathing steadies and he wipes at his eyes.  He shivers a little as he feels her hands caress the ridges of his wings.

“You have made these your own,” she says softly.  “But know that they were my last gift to you.”

He looks up, searching her face.  “You did this?  Why?”

“I hoped to give you a way to find yourself, apart from Thor and from Asgard.”  She cups his face in her hands and smiles.  “They have served their purpose.  If you wish to keep them, they are yours.”

“You can…you can take them away?” he stumbles over the words.

“I can.  If that is your wish.”

He buries his face against her again, holding fast.  He knows that he will not be able to stay much longer; he can feel the outside world beginning to tug at him once again. 

In a moment, she is gone and he wakes to bright lights and dull cacophony.  His ears are ringing – everything sounds as though it’s underwater – and every inch of his body aches.

“Loki, hold on.”  Steve’s face fills his vision and blurs.  There’s blood on the side of his face and in his hair.  “Stay with me.”

“Steve.”  Loki feels Steve’s hand in his.

“Don’t try to get up.  Just stay still.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

Steve leans down and kisses him fiercely.  “Rest now, talk later, okay?  Everything is going to be okay.”

Loki nods and lets his eyes fall closed.  If Steve says it’s going to be okay then he will believe it.  In a moment, he hears Thor’s voice in the distance and then other voices join his.

 _I am never touching that cursed hammer again_ , he thinks before he loses consciousness.

**

Steve leaves a note on the bed so Loki will know where he is if he wakes.  He’s restless and still stiff from being knocked around by Doom’s bugs. 

Outside, the air is cool and the sunset is beginning to paint the sky with fire.  He settles on the edge of the roof of the warehouse, his legs over the side, and watches the city.  In the distance, he can just barely make out the scaffolding on Stark Tower.

It’s twilight when he hears the access door open and slow footsteps coming toward him.  He watches Loki place two glasses and a bottle of wine on the ledge beside him and take a seat.  His movements are also stiff.  The breeze ruffles his feathers.

Steve has never seen Loki look as much at peace as he does now.  He accepts the glass of wine and holds it up to tap it gently against Loki’s.  “To another day.”

“And another night.”  Loki takes a sip of wine before he settles the glass between his legs. 

It seems as though there’s something Loki is working himself up to say so Steve waits, sipping his wine and watching the last rays of daylight.

“I killed the Abomination,” Loki says finally.  “And the others.”

“I know.”

“I don’t expect you to understand or…” Loki stops and turns toward Steve.  “Stark?”

Steve shakes his head.  “I hoped it wasn’t you, but I guess I always figured it had to be.”

“Oh.”

“I’d prefer you didn’t…do that.  You already know that, but I have to say it.”

“I can stop,” Loki says, but he sounds unsure.

“I’m not asking you to not defend yourself if you have to, but if you’re going to fight then I want you to do it with me.  At my side.”  Steve keeps his gaze out on the city.

“I also pretended to be you.”

“Tony did tell me about that one.  That might actually be useful.”  Steve gives Loki a sideways glance.  “SHIELD briefings can be really boring.”  The appalled look on Loki’s face is worth it; Steve can’t keep a straight face and starts to laugh.  “Just don’t pretend to be me without telling me, deal?”

Loki inclines his glass toward Steve.  “Deal.”

They sit in silence for a while.  The stars begin to peek just faintly through the bright lights of the city.

Steve figures it’s his turn.  “I saw you holding Mjolnir.  I mentioned it to Thor, didn’t think it was a big deal.”  He sees Loki cringe and press his forehead against his hand.

“He’s going to be impossible,” Loki mutters.

“Oh yeah,” Steve agrees sympathetically.  Thor was already impossible.  He was over the moon about the idea that Mjolnir had come to Loki when he’d needed it.  “First thing he did was tell all of Asgard.”

Loki groans.  “There goes my reputation.”

“Pretty much.”

“How did…how did it end?”

“Well, after you hit Doom with Mjolnir, there was an energy blast that knocked you out.  Thor punched a hole in the top of the cavern and pulled us both out.  The others were already on their way.  Once they figured out your wings could pierce their armor, Clint pulled out the arrows he made from your feathers and went to town.  He’s probably going to ask you for more feathers the first chance he gets.”  Steve sets his glass down to pour more wine.

“And Doom?”

“We found bits and pieces of his armor, but not a body.  He’ll be back, but probably not for awhile.”

Loki drinks slowly, swirling the wine in his glass after each sip.  “My words…the things I said to you…before.  They were cruel and they were lies.”

It takes everything Steve has to stay still.  He wants to throw his arms around Loki and kiss him breathless.  But he doesn’t.  He waits.

“I can’t lose you,” Loki continues, his words coming out in a rush of breath.  “Everything I’ve done…I was afraid you would not come home, that you would be killed.  I thought if I could…if I could kill enough of your enemies, that they would…they would stop.  And you would be safe.”  He bows his head and, after a few minutes, it’s clear that he’s said what he needed to say.

It’s not exactly what Steve had hoped to hear, but he thinks that it’s _enough_.

“What does it mean?” he asks.  “That Mjolnir came to you.  Thor tried to explain but it didn’t make much sense.”

Loki smiles a little.  “It wasn’t what I expected.  I thought it was about power, but it isn’t,” his voice turns rough.  “It is about love.  Being willing to love without fear.  Wholly, completely, holding nothing of yourself back and accepting what may come.”

Steve tightens his grip on Loki’s hand.  “Does that mean that you…I mean, of course you love Thor.  He’s your brother and that’s-”

“I love you, Steven Rogers.”  Loki takes a ragged breath, turning his hand to lace his fingers with Steve’s.  They sit that way for a long time, holding hands and watching the city. 

“It was my mother,” Loki says suddenly.  “She gave me these wings.”

“They’re beautiful.”  Steve’s said it a thousand times before.

Loki smiles.  “Yes.  They are.”


End file.
